


I've Learned To Lose You (Can't Afford To)

by FahcLove



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jon and Martin talk, M/M, Martin has lonely powers, background peter/elias, lesbians help gay men realize theyre in love, please jonny let them talk, pre-140
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 17:50:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20411869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FahcLove/pseuds/FahcLove
Summary: Martin turned away, planning to leave Jon to his cleaning. He shouldn’t be there, it would ruin everything if he decided to sit down and talk to Jon, Peter would be so disappointed. But, something pulled him, like a line pulled taut, and almost like a puppet on a string, Martin found himself sitting down, much to his and Jon’s surprise.“Yeah, actually. I’ll help you fix this. And we can talk if you want.”Jon looked at him in pure shock, “Are you sure?”“Yeah, I am."Jon and Martin finally talk. Finally.





	I've Learned To Lose You (Can't Afford To)

**Author's Note:**

> Jonny please let them talk.
> 
> Also for best reading experience listen to When The Party's Over by Billie Eilish. I listened to it on repeat when writing this.

Martin was watching Jon read a statement. He couldn’t help himself. Even though he knew he should be working on more important things - how to stop The Extinction, how to keep everyone safe, figure out Peter’s ulterior motive - he couldn’t bring himself to look away. And thanks to Peter slowly training him to be an avatar of the Lonely, Martin now knows how to be invisible and stay invisible, much like Peter does when he walks around the Archives. Martin’s not very good at it, if Jon wasn’t too busy reading a statement he would be able to sense Martin immediately. But, thankfully, Jon was too preoccupied, letting Martin stand near the doorway and watch, as he mused over his thoughts.

The last time they talked was...bad, to say the least. Martin should’ve been relieved, the person he’s been trying to talk to for over two years activity sought him out, telling Martin that he  _ missed him _ , that he wanted to talk. A year ago Martin would’ve dropped everything when he heard Jon say that. But that was Martin last year. Martin before the Unknowing, before his mom’s death, before Tim’s, before Jon’s. Before the Flesh attacked. Before everything. 

So he couldn’t talk to Jon, couldn’t let his words infect his mind. So instead, as a strange sort of compromise Martin made with himself, he decided to watch him. Martin would watch Jon’s face be engulfed by the person he was reading from, hearing his voice shakes in imaginary fear. Martin would watch Jon finish the statement, shake the emotion out of him and then muse about the information he researched, as well as his own opinions on the subject. He had only done it two other times, but Jon’s so predictable it already seemed like something Martin’s been doing for years.

As always, when Jon ended the statement, it was Martin’s turn to leave. He didn’t need to hear about how the statement giver didn’t return their calls and Jon couldn’t find any follow up information. Plus, as Jon slowly returned to his senses, he would start to Notice Martin. As he had done two times before, Martin slowly tried to push the door open wide enough that he could fit through - he still hadn’t figured out how to go full corporal like Peter does - when he heard his name. 

“I’m worried about Martin,” Jon confessed to the tape recorder, which whizzed in some sort of response. Martin froze and turned to look at him. Jon had slumped shoulders, his glasses were pushed up into his hair, and even though Martin couldn’t see his face, he could imagine the bags under Jon’s eyes.

“I know he’s ignoring me - he told me that much. And I don’t want to invade his privacy like I did before. I really shouldn’t have done that, that was stupid of me. It’s just, I’m worried about him. And I miss him. I didn’t expect to miss him this much. When Georgie had told me to keep in touch with people to stay sane, to have “anchors”, he was the first one I talked to. The, uh, only one actually. And now he’s disappeared working with Peter Lukas and I probably won’t ever see him again. I’m not even sure if he wants to see me again. God, I’ve been gone for too long,” Jon buried his face in his hands, and before he could get too more emotional, Martin left the room, trying to ignore the pull to go talk to him. 

He then immediately ran into Melanie, shattering his invisibility.

“Martin, I didn’t see you there,” Melanie said suspiciously. Martin didn’t blame her. He did just pop out of nowhere, after avoiding all of them for months.

“Ah, uhm, sorry,” he said, “just had to get something from, uh, Archive Storage,” he lied, trying to push past Melanie’s disbelieving face and get out of there before she asked too many questions.

“Did you just come from Jon’s office?” she asked, and Martin silently cursed. He was at least five steps from the hallway where he could easily get to his office (right next to Peter’s now, conveniently).

He took a few more steps before answering nonchalantly, “No, not really, not at all actually.”

Just two more steps and he would be free.

“He misses you, you know.”

Martin stopped to look at her. She had her arms crossed and looked laidback and calm if it weren’t for her dark eyes that searched him coldly.

“How do you know? Last I heard, you tried to kill him,” two more steps.

Melanie rolled her eyes, “That’s how obvious he is. Any moment he isn’t reading a statement or being freaky, he’s moping about you. You should talk to him.”

Martin rolled his eyes in return and turned away, “As if I need advice from you,” he muttered, knowing full well she heard it. He took those two final steps and heard her scoff behind him. And then Martin was free. 

But Melanie’s words and Jon’s private musings stuck with him through the rest of the day. As he did more research into The Extinction, as well as trying to find any other statements relating to it, his mind kept falling back on those words echoing in his mind.

He thought about what would happen if he reached out, explained to Jon what was happening. Maybe he would even tell him about his  _ feelings _ , and maybe they would-

Martin stopped that train of thought. There was no way he could do any of those things. Jon would freak out, try to stop him from working with Peter. Hell, he probably doesn’t even feel the same about Martin the way Martin feels about him. It’s so much better to just sit here, alone. At least everyone was safe. And Martin was used to looking at Jon from afar. It’s what he’s always done before.

“It’s better this way. I like it this way,” he murmured to himself as he sorted through files. Maybe if he said it enough, it would be true. 

\---

As much as he didn’t want to believe it, Jon was lovesick. He couldn’t stop thinking about Martin, about their last conversation, about how Martin promised  _ not to let him die _ . Something about that sent a pang into Jon’s heart. He faintly remembered that feeling from when he used to tutor Georgie in college. Which meant one thing: he was in love with Martin. 

Maybe love was too strong a word. At the very least, Jon was crushing, like a stupid teenager. And it was impacting him. He had to forcefully hold back the door containing Martin’s whereabouts, his thoughts, his emotions. It would be so easy to open the door, to let it all out. To Find Martin. To talk to him. 

But he couldn’t. Martin clearly didn’t feel the same way, given their last conversation and by how much he’s been avoiding him. And that’s not even considering where they work. If they dated, they both would be put in a very precarious position, having two very obvious weak spots, meaning that, more likely than not, one of them would die. 

Jon didn’t want to put Martin through that pain, that suffering, of being close to the monster that he is. Maybe Martin was right for ignoring him.

“It’s better this way. I like it this way,” he said in the direction of a tape recorder, which was already whirring away. Jon wondered why it was on, it couldn’t just be for Jon’s train of thought. 

Then Daisy walked in, face scrunched up. She paced around the room for a few seconds before her legs shook and she collapsed into the spare folding chair he kept for her (not that he would tell her that). 

“Daisy?” he said nervously. Even though she wasn’t infused with The Hunt like before, he was still a little wary of her, because she could still very easily kill him, muscle atrophy or not, “Are you okay?”

She huffed, then took a deep breath and tried to relax. Jon waited for her to calm down. This hadn’t been the first time she’s burst in here since they both stumbled out of the coffin. He had grown to rather appreciate her solid presence, and they often bonded over shared trauma.

Daisy took a deep breath in, let it out, and began to speak, “It’s just that, I know how the others feel about me. They treat me like I’m a glass doll. I know Melanie’s frustrated that she has to “babysit” me, and Basira barely talks to me anymore without ending up annoyed and frustrated. I just feel like they both want me to join The Hunt again. At least then I was useful,” she reached out her hand and Jon took it. Ever since coming back, she needed contact to make her feel real again, and Jon was happy to give it to her.

“Just give them time,” Jon said, squeezing her hand reassuringly, “You’ve only been back for a few weeks. They don’t understand what you went through down there, just that you went in snarling and came out...mewing,” Jon paused as Daisy looked at him in confusion, “I don’t think that metaphor worked as well as I thought it would. But, metaphors aside, you shouldn’t join The Hunt again just to be useful. You’re useful enough here, listening to statements and helping be a second opinion. And you’re the nicest person here, to me at least.”

Jon smiled at her, shakily, and she gave an equally uncertain smile back. But Jon saw how her eyes shone, and how her hand had stopped shaking as much. 

“Now, what’s troubling you?” she asked after a few moments of silence. Jon looked at her confusedly, but she continued “Don’t try to play dumb with me Jon, I saw the look on your face when I walked in here. Something’s troubling you as much as something’s troubling me.”

Jon took a deep breath. He didn’t know if he could admit his feelings about Martin to Daisy, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least talk about a little of it.

“I just worry about Martin. Peter Lukas worries me, and I don’t like how quickly he’s sunk his claws into him. He’s been avoiding me and Basira told me he’s barely even around and -” Jon stopped himself and took a deep breath in, and let it out, “I’m very worried about the effect The Lonely is having on him.”

Daisy was looking at him strangely, as if she knew something he didn’t, which was strange, considering his patron. She squeezed his hand, and he realized it was shaking. 

“It’s okay to be worried about your friends. Honestly, I haven’t even seen Martin since I came out of the...you know. You said he was avoiding you?”

Jon nodded, “I tried to talk to him once, but he kept avoiding the subject, giving me short, clipped answers. And then I, uh, Found him and he literally ran away and told me not to Find him again. I’ve been trying to respect that but it’s hard.”

“You just need to wait it out. I know it’s hard, especially for you, but if Martin wants to ignore you for Lukas or whatever, you have to let him. He is a grown man after all. But I’m sure he’ll come around,” she gave a reassuring squeeze and Jon looked at her, confused.

“How do you know?”

She smiled, “I just have a feeling.” 

The two sat in silence before Jon felt a familiar pressure and his gaze drifted to the stack of statements on his desk. Daisy let go of his hand and leaned back in her chair as he picked the first one up and began to read. 

\---

“We’re making  _ great _ progress, Martin! This is way faster than if I had been on my own,” Peter Lukas said cheerily after Martin had briefed him on his research into The Extinction. 

“Are you sure  _ we _ are making progress? ‘Cause I feel like it’s just me doing anything,” Martin bit back. The more he got to know Peter, the more he had become less scared and more annoyed at the older man’s presence. 

“Martin, it is the both of us. You do research here, with all these statements and books to help you. And I do research elsewhere, going after tips and new information. As much as you’d like to think you’re doing this all by yourself, you know that if I weren’t here, you would have no idea what The Extinction was in the first place. You’d be just like your little Archivist,” Peter said, and Martin tried to control his face when Peter mentioned Jon. As much as he tried to push him out of his mind, Jon’s face kept floating back in. He just hoped Peter didn’t notice. 

“Martin,” Peter said, a familiar chiding tone in his voice, “You can’t keep worrying about him. I know you decided to work with me because you want to help save him, and I promise we are. But you have to set him aside for now and focus on what’s really important: stopping The Extinction. Then you can continue fretting over him as always.”

“Wh-Who says I’m fretting over him?” Martin tried, but the look on Peter’s face made him give up that argument, “Fine, I’ll put him out of my mind for the time being. It’s not as easy as you say, not that you would know.”

Peter smiled in a way that reminded Martin of a very evil cat, and as the fog rolled into Martin’s office, he was gone, leaving him stacks of statements to read and feelings to mull over. 

“Ass,” Martin mumbled to himself as he picked up a folder and started reading. 

\--

Martin was busy reading through a journal of an old researcher who loved to interrupt his writings about the fate of the world to talk about how much he loved peonies when he heard a crash, and then a noise that sounded like a scream. He bolted up, remembering when The Flesh attacked, and made his way to the source. Martin walked past the front desk, down the stairs into the Archives and to one of the Archiving Rooms, which had the door wide open. Martin pulled out the small knife he kept on him at all times and gingerly crept toward the door. He peeked inside, ready to fight whatever monster was trying to attack the Archives when-

Jon was sitting on the floor, next to a fallen shelf and an explosion of statements spread around him. He was rubbing his head and looking extremely embarrassed. He looked up when Martin entered the room and Martin tried to ignore how much Jon’s face brightened when he recognized him. 

“Martin!” he exclaimed, then looked at his knife and held his hands in a placating gesture, “There’s no monster here or anything, I was trying to get one of the statements from the top shelf and accidentally tipped the whole shelf over. It scared me pretty bad, which is ironic because there are much scarier things than - what are you doing down here?” Jon stopped rambling and stared Martin dead in the eyes. He Asked him, and Martin felt the words tumbling out of him before he could stop himself. 

“I thought a monster was here and I wanted to protect you,” he said and watched Jon go from shock and surprise to horror and realization.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to Ask you it’s just that-”

Martin cut him off, “It’s fine. I have been avoiding you, it would make sense if you’d think I would run away before talking to you again.”

“Are you going to run away? Because I would like some help organizing this shelf again.”

Martin turned away, planning to leave Jon to his cleaning. He shouldn’t be there, it would ruin everything if he decided to sit down and talk to Jon, Peter would be so disappointed. But, something pulled him, like a line pulled taut, and almost like a puppet on a string, Martin found himself sitting down, much to his and Jon’s surprise. 

“Yeah, actually. I’ll help you fix this. And we can talk if you want.”

Jon looked at him in pure shock, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I am. You need help putting all these files back and the rest of the Institute seems empty. It’s the least I can do.”

“Okay. Can you at least put the knife away.”

“Oh.  _ Oh _ , sorry, I completely forgot that I had this out,” Martin put the knife back in his pocket and Jon stood up. The two of the pushed the shelf back up to its normal position and sat down on the floor again, sorting through files. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be too daunting of a task, but it would be a long one. Martin knew he wouldn’t get sleep tonight. 

There was a bit of silence as the two of them began to sort before Jon spoke, “So, how have you been? Besides working on a mystery project with Peter Lukas,” Jon spoke evenly, but Martin could hear the annoyance that seeped into his words.

“I’ve been good. A little stressed, but I’m managing,” Martin lied. He had not been managing at all. 

Jon nodded, “Same. I, uh, realized I don’t need to sleep as much as I used to. Which is actually a good thing, since I wasn’t sleeping much anyway,” he joked, but it fell a little flat. Martin tried to ignore how his heart twisted at the thought of Jon no longer needing sleep at all.

“That’s not very healthy Jon, you need-” Martin started, but Jon cut him off.

“I know I need sleep. Besides, I don’t need health tips from someone who’s been ignoring me for the past 2 months,” after the words were out of his mouth, Jon’s face immediately fell and he tried to backtrack, “I’m sorry Martin I don’t mean to take it out on you. I know you have a lot of good reasons for why you’re not talking to me.”

Martin didn’t know what to say, and after a few seconds, the two continued working in silence, before Martin broke it. 

“Did you listen to the tape?” he made sure not to look at Jon, becoming very focused on case #0142302 in his hands.

“Which tape?”

“The one where-” Martin stops and takes a deep breath, “The one where I’m burning statements,” out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jon pause for a second, then continue.

“Oh. Yes, I did. I listen to all of the tapes. Martin,” he pauses, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I choose to do that. I choose to be...Seen by Elias.”

“I know,” Jon says softly. There is a short pause before he speaks up again, “How is your poetry going?”

Martin sputtered, “Wha-What? My poetry?”

Jon nodded and looked at him, “You told me you write poetry in your spare time. And since we can’t talk about work, I wondered if you’ve been writing any poetry lately.”

“Well, I haven’t really been writing a lot lately. Been busy...you know,” Martin gestured vaguely and Jon nodded sagely.

“I know. Everything’s been so busy lately and now that we are all living in the Archive - speaking of, where have you been sleeping?”

“In the Archives as well. I’m not risking it out there, with every entity that hates us staring down our door. Where else would I be? I was the first one to live here you know. When Jane Prentiss attacked.”

“I mean, it does make sense that you’d be living here with the rest of us. Just, Basira mentioned that she didn’t know where you slept, that you still went to your apartment. And you haven’t been around for me to ask.”

Martin tried not to let that last comment sting, “Well, I sleep in my office. Not near the tunnels like you all do. Which is creepier, in my opinion.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m sleeping in your old bed in the storage room. It’s quite comfy.”

“It should be, I bought a mattress for it and everything,” Martin tried to ignore the images dancing through his head of Jon in his bed, and also the images of Jane Prentiss coming at him through the walls. He just tried to turn off his brain altogether.

There was another long silence as the two men continued to sort through the files, slowly diminishing the pile. Martin glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. It was 4:48, an hour or so before everyone started showing up. Peter would probably want him back doing actual work soon. Besides, he couldn’t stay with Jon forever, putting back worthless files. He had more important stuff to do. As he tried to come up with a reasonable excuse, Jon’s voice broke through his thoughts. 

“It’s fine if you have to leave now. You don’t have to lie to me,” he said, sounding more tired than Martin ever heard him. But that wasn’t the important part. Had Martin been so tired he started talking out loud without realizing it. But that didn’t make sense. Wait a minute-

“Did you listen to my thoughts?” Martin asked incredulously. 

Jon looked stricken, “I didn’t mean to,” he said, “It just happens sometimes. I’m sorry.”

Martin didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. Just continued to put the files in boxes and back on the shelves. 

“I mean it though,” Jon said, “You don’t have to stay here. You can leave, I know you want to. And not just by hearing your thoughts. You’ve been looking at the clock for the past 30 minutes. If you want to go, you can. I won’t mind.”

Martin glanced at Jon, to see him still completely focused on sorting. But Martin could see the way his hands shook.

As much as Martin really, really, really wanted to stay with Jon, he knew he overstayed his welcome. 

“I’m sorry Jon,” Martin said as he stood up, trying to look anywhere but into Jon’s stark grey eyes, “But I really do have to go.”

“I understand,” Jon nodded, “I can finish up here by myself.”

Martin nodded, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and turned to leave. He was almost out the door when he heard Jon say something softly behind him. 

“Thank you.”

Martin didn’t turn around, but smiled to himself, and was soon in his office, where the heaviness of the loneliness that surrounded Peter hit him with full force, but not an uncomfortable one. Martin had grown quite fond of it. 

He checked the clock for one last time: 5:12, and laid down on the makeshift bed he made in his office, closing his eyes and dreaming about Jon and his wonderful grey eyes. 

\---

Jon was quite happy, but also quite sad in the same breath. He had talked to Martin - actually  _ talked _ to him - but the conversation was clipped, bland, and way too short. But it wasn’t like Jon expected any better, at least Martin had wanted to talk to him, which is a big improvement from the past two times they had been in the same room. 

Jon continued to think about their conversation, and about Martin, as he finished up sorting and headed back to his office. He kept thinking as he tried to pick out some statements, before realizing he was going to get nothing, his brain still full of Martin. 

That was right when Basira peeked her head in, carrying a box full of...something. Jon welcomed the distraction and signaled her to come in. 

“Hey, I was looking through all statements that involved the Dark and I wanted you to Look through them. You know, with your powers,” she set down the box on the only clean spot on the floor. Jon stood up and walked over to her, glancing at the box. None of them stood out exactly, and he relayed this to her. She huffed and set her hand on her hip, looking at him expectantly. 

“But I will look through them,” he told her, “I’ve just been a little…” he gestured vaguely, hoping she would drop it.

“Is it because of Martin?” 

Jon’s brain short-circuited, “What? Why-Why would you think that?”

Basira looked at him the same exact way Daisy looked at him yesterday, “I sleep here too, you know. All three of us came running to where you knocked over that shelf last night, only to find you and Martin chatting away like good mates. Melanie wanted to barge in, but Daisy said we should just go back to sleep. So we did,” she leaned in close, “What did you and Martin talk about?”

Jon tried to ignore how red his face felt. He tore his eyes away from Basira and gazed intently at the stack of statements, “Not much. I didn’t want to freak him out and have him leave, so we basically talked about nothing. Then he left,” Jon tried not to let the contempt seep into his voice, but he knew it didn’t work. 

Basira sighed, “Look, I’m not the best person to give out relationship advice. Although, none of us really are. But, even though Martin has been dead set on avoiding you, he sought you out. And it probably won’t happen again. Or, at least not anytime soon. So, my advice? Find him, you know, with your powers, and tell him you like him. Then you’ll stop moping every time he comes around, or every time he doesn’t, and we can get to business. And if he likes you, he’ll stop avoiding you, and then you’ll be happy,” Jon’s brain switched into overdrive as his face burned. Was he really that easy to read? 

“I don’t like Martin-” he protested, but Basira cut him off, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Jon, I’m not stupid. Just confess and then move on. I don’t want to keep finding you staring off into space dreaming about him.”

“I don’t dream about him-” Jon started, but she had already gone. Jon sighed. As much as he hated to think about it, she was probably right. There was no way Martin liked him, so it was best to just confess and get it over with. Then he can move on and continue stopping the rituals before they destroy the world. 

\---

Martin had just finished reading through a statement that he thought involved The Extinction but was really just about The End when he felt a familiar tingling down his spine and he turned to see Peter behind him with a puzzled look on his face.

“What is it?” Martin grumbled. The short amount of sleep he got actually made him feel worse, the loneliness in the air almost crushing him. 

Peter frowned, “I don’t understand, why are you still so hung up on Jon. I was sure that your little chat last night would make you more productive. Yet you are still moping.”

“How do you - you know what, never mind. Do you even understand how relationships work? Usually, when you talk to someone - unless it ends horribly - you end the conversation wanting to see them more. And that’s why I’m still “moping” as you call it.”

“But every time I talk to Elias I stop fantasizing about us running away together.”

“Maybe it’s because Elias is an insufferable human being?”

Peter paused, hand on his chin, “Maybe,” he said and Martin continued working, expecting Peter to disappear into the fog as he usually did. But instead, he continued to stare.

“Look, I’m not going to help you with your relationship problems with Elias. I already have too much going on in my own life,” he finally said, agitated by the look on Peter’s face.

Peter scoffed, “I don’t need your help with Elias. I can handle that myself. I was just going to comment that it seems that you really care about Jon. More than Elias and I thought. It’s very interesting. Humans are so strange.”

Martin tried not to let anything Peter was saying impact him. He didn’t need to be told something he already knew, “Are you just going to stare at me as I read all these books, or are you going to go do more important things?” 

Martin didn’t relax until the last of the fog trickled out of the room. He turned back to the stacks and stacks of work he had to do, and pushed Jon from his mind.

\---

Jon had a very bad headache. He tried to Know where Martin was, but instead of being very cooperative like last time, he was given images of a heavy grey fog, followed by a piercing headache. Which he was now trying to wait out with a cup of tea (made by Daisy) and six tabs of advil (Basira only gave him two, but Jon decided he needed a few more). He glanced around his office when his eyes landed on an ordinary statement on one of the shelves that seemed to be glowing. Jon Knew he needed to read it. He grabbed it and sat back down in his chair, trying to move and think without his head screaming at him in pain. Luckily, he didn’t even need to turn on the tape recorder, it was already whirring as he opened the file and cleared his throat. 

“Statement of Jacob Poul, regarding his missing boyfriend. Statement given September 15th, 2015. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archivist. Statement begins. 

“Four months ago, almost to the exact day, my boyfriend of two years, Kevin Jones, disappeared from our shared apartment. I woke up, the morning of May 11th, to an empty bed. I wasn’t too surprised, sometimes Kevin goes to work early, or he has to grab something from the store. He’s a morning person, and I am very much not, so it’s often that I wake up and he’s out and about somewhere. So, I made myself some breakfast, finished reading a book I started and headed off to work. I made sure to text him, but I wasn’t too shocked to see he didn’t respond. I just assumed he was too focused on his work - a salesman for a company I’d probably shouldn’t name - and that he would text me during his lunch break. I went to my job, a waiter down at a small restaurant called Louie’s, and expected my phone to be filled with texts of him apologizing and saying he would remember to wake me up next time he left, as usual. But he never texted me back. And then, I got a call from one of his friends at work who I’d gotten to know pretty well, asking if he was sick. Apparently, he never went in for work. I called him ten times, called his family, even some of his friends, and all was the same. None of them had seen him.”

The statement continued, describing how much of a wreck Jacob Poul was the months following his boyfriend’s disappearance, and how he decided to take the search into his own hands and look for Kevin himself. He went around to any shop Kevin went to and asked if they had seen him. All of them, predictably, said no, and when Jacob was about to give up, a homeless man told him that he had seen Kevin at a park, talking to himself. Jacob and his friend Sandra McAlvoy, went down to the park exactly three months after Kevin disappeared. The park was covered in fog, and when they made it to the area the homeless man described, the fog was so thick that Jacob said it was hard to breathe. Then, Jacob saw Kevin, in the center of a small pool and crying. Jacob moved to hug Kevin when Sandra grabbed his hand, and Jacob saw who was really in the center of the pool. Peter Lukas. Jacob and Sandra then left and made it back to their apartment. They have since been afraid of being alone and even went to deliver this statement together, although Sandra did not give a statement. 

Jacob ended the statement saying that he knew Kevin was dead, and the fog took him, but every time he went to the park, if he thought about Kevin for long enough, the fog would come rolling back, and Jacob could almost see Kevin, in the fog. 

Jon frowned at the statement, “What was this supposed to tell me?” he asked the tape recorder, “That Peter Lukas is a bad person who steals and kills people? I already know that. It’s not like there was anything in this statement that connected to Martin-”

Jon’s mouth made words faster than Jon’s brain could keep track, “Martin has an office. Martin sleeps in his office.  _ Martin is in his office. _ ”

Jon finally caught up with what he was saying, an image of Martin reading a heavy leather-bound book in an unfamiliar yet familiar office floated through his mind. He Found Martin. He stood to leave when he realized the tape recorder was still on. He turned it off and left the Archives, heading upstairs to where Martin’s office was. 

\---

Jon did not bother to knock, he just walked in. He did not want Martin to disappear before he got to talk to him. 

Martin yelped and dropped the book he was reading, staring at Jon in utter shock, “Jon?” he asked nervously, “What are - What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you, Martin,” Jon stepped into the office and closed the door, “And I don’t want you to brush me off, or run away, or disappear. I just want to talk to you and then - and then you don’t ever have to see me again. You can hold up here and work with Peter Lukas and do whatever you want. But, at least let me talk to you for ten minutes.”

“Uh,” Martin said eloquently, “Okay. You can talk to me. For ten minutes. About whatever.”

Jon nodded, and as he began to speak, a small tape recorder appeared underneath Martin’s desk and turned on, whirring softly and listening intently. 

“I realize that in the beginning, I wasn’t really nice to you, and I want to apologize for that, because so much has happened since then and I haven’t been able to talk to you about it since then but, I was a real dick. Then you moved into the Archives, and I hated it at first, I’m sure you could tell because as I started to stay later and come in early, you were always there to bug me. But you weren’t bugging me, you were...taking care of me. Telling me to sleep, making me tea, forcing me to take breaks. I didn’t realize it then, but I do now, and I want to thank you. 

“Georgie made me promise to keep in touch with people, and I tried. I talked to you, and even though the conversation was awkward, it wasn’t awful. That was when I realized that I really care about you. That you weren’t-you weren’t a nuisance or annoyance or anything, you were probably the closest thing I could call a friend. But I couldn’t tell you that because I’m an utter moron who doesn’t understand feelings. So I would drink your tea and make light conversation and it was the same old same old. Then The Unknowing. And then I was in a coma for six months. Six months of horrid dreams, and when I woke up, I wasn’t the same. I’m not the same. You’re not the same. I tried to look for you, but you disappeared. And avoided me. And had such a...look on your face, it hurt me to my core. And I’m talking to you right now so when I never see you again, I’m not plagued by the words I didn’t say, the feelings I didn’t convey.”

Jon was trying to ignore the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, trying to build up as much courage as he possibly could before he spoke.

“Martin Blackwood, I think I’m in love with you. And you don’t have to reciprocate, you don’t even have to see me again. I just wanted you to know so I don’t have this...weight on my chest every time I make a cup of tea, or when I see a spider, or-”

Jon was cut off when Martin kissed him. It was brief, just the briefest touch, and Jon was left reeling, “Martin, what…” 

“Of course I love you, idiot,” he said softly, looking at Jon with fondness, “I’ve loved you since forever. I just wish you didn’t realize it now,” he turned away. Jon cupped his hand around Martin’s cheek and turned his head, making eye contact and grinning. 

“I’m sure no one will miss us for a good hour or so, we have some time.”

Just to be decent, the tape recorder turned off, to give the couple some alone time. 

**  
  
**

**Author's Note:**

> I post a lot about The Magnus Archives on my tumblr, [fahclove](https://fahclove.tumblr.com/) if you wanna check it out!


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